Page 55 of The Darkest Chase

I could get him hurt or worse, if Xavier and the Jacobins figure out Micah’s watching them so closely.

Hey, I send. I think I’m getting cold feet. I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me?

I’m not expecting a quick answer.

He’s probably on his way to work or there already—if he’s not still out walking Rolf. So I’m surprised when my phone buzzes in my hand.

I yelp and almost drop it before I clutch it to my chest.

Calm down, girl.

Micah: Are you all right?

Just that.

No demand for explanations, no condemnation, no scorn. Just a simple question, and it’s a question a lot of people wouldn’t ask when they’d be razor-focused on their own selfish goals.

I tease my lower lip with my teeth as I text back.

No, I answer. My nerves are shot. I’m such a mess I can’t get out the door. I look like a circus clown someone tossed in the dryer for three hours. I’m scared, Micah. So scared I’ll screw this up and Xavier will figure it out, and then he’ll come after you.

There’s a long silence before my phone pings again.

Micah: That’s why you’re nervous? You’re worried about me?

Yes! I answer hesitantly. Please don’t hate me?

It’s true.

So maybe I’m a little worried about what Xavier could do to me or my grandfather, but it’s my job to take care of myself. Of us.

I’d panic, sure, but I could figure out what to do if it was just me and Grandpa at stake. But knowing there’s so much more riding on this…

No, I won’t stand it if my clumsiness gets Micah hurt when all he wants is justice for his brother, for so many victims.

I don’t know the whole story there.

Still, the look on his face spoke volumes last night, when he told me his brother was dead.

It cut me to the bone.

A few moments later, he replies.

I’m not afraid of Xavier goddamned Arrendell. He won’t hurt me. I won’t let him hurt you. But if you’re that afraid, no. I won’t hate you if you back out. Don’t push yourself too hard, Talia. It’s okay. The choice is always yours.

I actually believe him.

I believe he won’t hold a grudge if I quit. If I chicken out.

Trouble is, I’d hate myself plenty to make up for it.

I’ve spent my entire life trying to be more than the weak, sickly girl, haven’t I?

Now, the second I’m put to the test, I want to hide?

Hell no.

It’s not pushing, I answer, then take a selfie, cringing at the camera and wincing as I tap Send. But look at me. Like I said, circus clown. I’m in no shape to dazzle anyone, much less pull anything over on him.